Irma
by lizzybudd
Summary: The hand over her mouth suddenly seems like it is going to suffocate her and she breathes through her nose in panicked breaths. The last thing she sees is herself standing on the sidewalk, waving goodbye with a lazy wiggle of her fingertips and a cruel smirk on her face. "See you later, alligator. Not." Irma, April, Casey and the turtles. Set in the 2012 verse.
1. Chapter 1

_Brain worm, gah! Must start getting it out before it eats me! Seriously though this story won't leave me alone. It only popped up a few days ago and isn't fully formed yet so I only have a very basic idea of where it's going but sometimes stories need have the freedom to just tell themselves!_

 _Any why Irma? Because I always loved her in the 1980's cartoon. I thought she was smart (isn't everyone who wears glasses?) and it wasn't until I got a bit older that I realised she got a bit of a bum deal. Clumsy, dowdy and nerdy next to glamorous 'news reporter' April. Stuck with Vern a lot of the time and forced to listen to the condescending whinge bag. Boy crazy and so desperate for a boyfriend she crushes on anything that moves. Then eventually she gets phased out of the series and fa_ _des away to nothing. Brutal!_

 _I had high hopes for the 2012 cartons, I loved the makeover they gave her, but they stuck to the 'nerdy and annoying' stereotype. Then (spoiler alert) she turned out to be just another Krangbot. Maybe they'll bring her back in future episodes, who knows? Until then this is my idea about what happened to the real Irma Langinstein._

 _I'm planning to write this story in short bursts, the complete opposite to my 'Scarlett' and 'Neko' stories which now tend to get upwards of 7,000 words per chapter. I'm not sure if Scar will make an appearance either but if she does it will be as a fairly minor character. I've never used an existing character as my main protagonist before so I'm seeing how I go. I'm also going to try third person, not sure if I will be successful :/_

 _Anyway, enough rambling...I own nothing!_

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New York pedestrians are fluid creatures, like water slipping down a rocky stream they seamlessly flow around honking traffic and each other as they bustle from place to place. Rarely does so minor a collision occur as even a bump of elbows or brush of shoulders. More unpredictable hazards, such as the randomly sprawled homeless or slow moving tourists, are dealt with efficiently with a quick series of delicate side steps.

One such hazard is making her way down 2nd Street, head buried in a biochemistry textbook as she mutters to herself from passages she highlighted during her last study period. Exasperated foot traffic can clearly make out her muttering as they weave out of her way, "... _plasma membrane is a selectively permeable barrier between the cell and extracellular environment_..."

The book with legs veers to the left without looking and her boots clomp quickly down a long set of subway stairs. She is still muttering as she pulls a metro card from her pocket and shoves her way through the narrow turnstile, "... _permeability properties ensure that essential molecules, such as glucose, amino acids and lipids readily enter the cell_..."

Muggy heat envelopes her as soon as she steps onto the platform but she hardly notices beyond the need to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose when they slip with sweat. The train pulls in at the station, the hot but welcome breeze it generates swishes her skirt about her thighs and when it dies down again she follows the other commuters as they cram into the already full carriage.

As if by magic a seat opens up just in time to catch her as she plonks herself down next to a young mother with a baby on her lap, "... _metabolic intermediates remain in the cell and waste compounds leave_..." The baby looks around at her voice and grabs at her book, the mother offers an apology but apart from moving just enough to thwart the child's efforts she doesn't seem to notice them at all.

Three stops later and she is back on her feet, pushing her way off the train with her book held before her like a battering ram. Head is still down she climbs back to street level, appearing not to notice as the crowd around her thins even further, "... _selective permeability of the plasma membrane allows the cell to maintain a constant internal environment_..."

A few blocks pass and now she is on a quiet street by herself, the sun has nearly sunk behind the taller buildings. She flits in and out of patches of deepening shadow, passes by narrow alleys that are shrouded in darkness. One of these alleys reaches out with a long arm and she blinks when the textbook suddenly vanishes.

"Hey!" She looks around as if only just realising where she is. There is a noise from the alley and she turns to face it with her hands on her hips, "Give that back right now! I'm studying for my test on cellular membranes tomorrow and..."

"The human known as Irma Langinstein will not be needing the book that is the book that contains the information of those that are known as cellular membranes."

A man in a business suit steps from the mouth of the alley. The frown lifts from her face and is replaced by a wary expression. "What?" Unease colours her voice and she takes a step backwards. Before she can retreat further the man reaches out to grab her wrist in a painfully tight grip.

A second man steps from the shadows, identical to the first in every way. "The human known as Irma will from this point in time be know as the one who is a captive of the Kraang." He says in the same bland voice.

"Ow, let me go!" She twists to get away but only manages to hurt herself within his tight grip. She kicks at him with her boots and gets no reaction. A white van pulls to the curb and it scares her so badly she opens her mouth to scream, a hard hand covers her mouth and her cries are muffled as she is pushed towards it. The doors of the van fling open and when she sees what's inside her eyes bulge wide.

"Hello Irma."

The girl sitting in the back of the van jumps down onto the street, now there are two sets of twins standing in a group. One of the men holds out the stolen textbook, the other Irma takes it and reads the cover with a sneer. "You gotta be kiddin me, basic Earth biology? What a load of crock, this has gotta be the worst assignment I ever got. I can feel myself getting stupider already." She tucks the book under one arm then holds out her free hand, snapping her fingers impatiently while the man holding the other girl tugs the backpack from her shoulders and hands it over.

The hand over her mouth suddenly seems like it is going to suffocate her and she breathes through her nose in panicked breaths. The last thing she sees is herself standing on the sidewalk, waving goodbye with a lazy wiggle of her fingertips and a cruel smirk on her face. "See you later, alligator. _Not._ "

The van doors slam with her on the inside and that's the last she will see of planet Earth for quite some time.

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 _Let's see how many people are interested in this story :) Let me know with reviews!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and put 'Irma' on their favourites list! Usually I reply directly to people who leave a comment but I had a couple from 'guests' plus someone else (I shall call you marshmallow) who I can't message so instead I'll just say a big "thanks!" to you right here :)_

 _Normally I don't post chapters so quickly but I'm feeling inspired. Plus it's heaps easier to get them up when they are this short and sweet._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing_

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"...the three dimensional structure of a recombinant cardiac gap junction membrane channel is determined by electron crystallography..."

Irma kept her eyes tightly shut as she recited from memory, desperately pulling up any information she could think of and letting it spill from her lips so fast the words ran together. She could feel hot tears tracking down her cheeks so she concentrated on those, the science, and the sensation of her nails digging into her palms.

Anything but the Kraang alien that hovered in front of her.

They came and went on a schedule that was a complete mystery to her. She didn't know where she was, how long it had been since she was taken, or if it was even the same alien who turned up time after time to torture her.

At least, it felt like torture...

It was almost impossible to form coherent thoughts. Her head throbbed with an ache that came from a place deep inside her cranium, a spot right in the middle of her skull where she'd never experienced any distinct sensation before, let alone this kind of pain. The headache brought about by the aliens visits had steadily increased over time until it was a merciless migraine pounding from the inside out.

But there was something even worse than the crippling pain. Each time one of the Kraang came to rifle through her head they left a residue behind. That was the only way she could describe what it felt like. As out of place as an oil slick on water she could feel something ebbing and flowing where it didn't belong. It made her skin crawl and her stomach turn.

An inhuman screech disrupted her efforts to distract herself and she tensed. A moment later she felt the cold pulses begin again, reverberating in her head until she thought her brain would leak out her ears. Talking seemed to help block the worst of the psychic invasion and by this point she was babbling desperately, "...channels allow the direct exchange of ions and molecules between adjacent cells..." her voice rose until it cracked, "...each channel is formed...is formed by...I don't know what you want," she sobbed brokenly. "Whatever it is I don't have it! Stop...please...it hurts!"

"The human known as Irma has exactly the thing that Kraang require."

Irma's eyes flew open in shock and she found herself gazing directly into the narrowed yellow eyes of the alien. It was the first time one of them had spoken clearly to her since the evening they'd taken her from Earth. But the voice hadn't come from the pink blob's mouth full of small pointy teeth, it had come from inside her own head.

 _It was inside her head!_

This time when she opened her mouth it wasn't to recite cellular information. It was to scream.

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 _Please review!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks again for the reviews everyone, it's awesome to be getting so much interest. A big shout out to all the 'guests' out there, I appreciate you too! I've been super motivated by you all so here is a new chapter for you._

 _A few clever cookies have made some great observations about the story and the direction it will take. Enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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Irma lay quiet and still. Her parched lips were slightly open but no words had passed them for days now. Dull brown eyes stared sightlessly at the wall while the thin pink lines that ran through the dark metal cast an eerie glow over her skin and clothes.

Her head no longer felt like it was going to explode which was one small thing to be grateful for. The aliens seemed to have extracted everything they needed and had now forgotten she even existed.

She hadn't forgotten about them though.

She could feel them all the time, deep inside her head as a constant chatter of monotone voices. Sometimes they faded to a low buzz, too faint to make out words. Other times she was forced to clap her hands over her ears to try and drown them out. It didn't work of course, it was coming from _inside_ her head.

Thinking about her family helped. If she concentrated hard enough the voices sometimes faded away altogether. What she wouldn't give to be back in her kitchen with her dad, laughing and joking with him while they cooked a late dinner. Or sitting beside her mom while she played the piano, leaning against her arm like she had when she was little and smelling the perfume on her clothes. She wondered if they were out looking for her, but then she remembered how she'd seen herself standing on the sidewalk, waving goodbye with that cruel smirk. Her place had been taken. But her parents loved her, they knew her better than anyone. Surely they would realise that she'd been replaced by an imposter?

Irma thought about 'other Irma' all the time. Pictured her in her bedroom. Scoffing over her collection of textbooks and mocking the clothes in her wardrobe. Was she going to school in her place? Would her friends and teachers realise something was off? It was almost impossible to imagine that sneering doppleganger slotting into her life without _someone_ noticing.

But so what? It's not like anyone would be able to find her here.

When the door to her cell opened Irma couldn't even summon the strength to move. Instead she watched from the corner of her eye as blurry metal feet entered her field of vision. The buzzing in her head increased with their arrival and she whimpered when they picked her up off the floor. With one at each side to hold her up they propelled her out of the room and down an endless corridor. Her glasses had been lost long ago and she took some comfort in the fact that she couldn't see anything clearly. Having everything look fuzzy at the edges made the whole thing seem surreal.

It wasn't until they led her to an airlock that worry pushed past her numbness. The first portal hissed open, when they reached the outer door she caught a glimpse through a small window. They were taking her outside?

The second door rose smoothly on it's tracks and with it a cool breeze washed over her face. As she sucked the first lungful of alien air she was hit with an overwhelming sense of wrongness. Everything was pink and grey. She drew another painful breath, squinting at the twisted pink trees and swirling taffy sky. Yet another breath and spots danced in front of her eyes, further obscuring her vision of the vast islands that seemed to float far away in the distance. She blinked hard. Her knees hit the smooth ground and she felt the unyielding grey surface beneath her palms. This was the Kraang's home planet?

"I...can't... _breathe_..."

Pulling air was like trying to inhale sand. She reached out towards the closest machine, scrabbled desperately at it's foggy outline. It stepped back, raised the gun it held in it's hands and pointed it at her. With her last ounce of energy she raised an arm to shield herself a second before she was coated in a shower of pink foam.

A wave of tingles travelled over her arm, swiftly moving to the rest of her body as she fell down, down...down...into nothingness...

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 _Wow, these are so fun to write! Sorry Irma :(_

 _Please review :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for the reviews, faves and follows! Most of you are shocked at poor Irma's treatment and I promise things are about to get better. Thanks to all the 'guests' who reviewed, I especially enjoyed the 'someone help this poor child!' one, in my head it was delightfully dramatic :)_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing_

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The sensation that brought her back to awareness was a strange one. She felt disorientated, confused. Like she had scales over her eyes and ears which were now slowly sloughing away as her senses sluggishly came back online. Light rain continued to patter down over her head, shoulders and back but the feeling was faint, as though her whole body had gone to sleep.

Had she been dreaming?

The environment around her swam into focus in shades of pink and grey and she felt the first memory twist inside her head like an eel. She tried to catch it with clumsy fingers but it slithered away. Everything around her blurred and ran together.

The light patter of rain became stinging needles. She tipped her head back and saw it was a dull orange colour. Everywhere the drops landed a small pain blossomed. Her arms felt weird as if all the nerve endings were fizzing. She held one of them up to her face and watched as it transformed. The bulging pink tentacle that enveloped her limb from the elbow down shrivelled and shrank before her eyes leaving behind a forearm, five slim fingers and a strong tingling sensation as it went. She held the opposite limb up and found it was going through the same transformation.

A loud _boom_ pulsed in her awakening eardrums. She lifted her head in time to see a strange silver ship hurtle directly overhead, spewing bright bolts of light as it went. Before she could make out what it was shooting at a second explosion lit up the swirling pink sky and whatever it was disappeared in a roil of smoke and shrapnel.

The little ship turned hard, arcing gracefully in a controlled curve then zipping back the way it had come. She followed it with her head and saw that it was now circling a much larger vessel which seemed as large as a moon by comparison. _Technodrome_...how did she know it was called that? Circular windows on it's surface pulsed with an orange light and somehow she knew that the nozzles that covered the outside of the sphere had been responsible for blanketing her island in the fine orange mist.

The ships continued to move along to the next floating island where thousands more abducted earthlings toiled for the Kraang. As they came within range the small stealth ship once again zipped away to provide protective fire while the Technodrome began releasing the strange orange substance onto the mutants below.

Her attention was wrenched back to what was happening on her own island when something hard knocked into her shoulder. She flinched back from the creatures who staggered about her, horrified by the gasping and choking sounds that filled the air. The pink mutated growths that twisted their bodies receded until perfectly human bodies twisted on the ground. They clawed at their necks, eyes bulging in fear.

She raised her newly formed hands to her own throat, felt the large deformities there gradually receding beneath her fingertips until smooth skin remained. It was getting hard to breathe and she realised that she'd felt this terrifying sensation before. The mutation was being lifted and now her lungs were rejecting the alien atmosphere. The world around her dimmed and greyed and she sank to her knees with the rest, desperately trying to pull air while dark spots danced across her vision.

Gold flickers came to dance with the black, growing until they overtook the darkness and filled her vision with an overwhelming brightness. Her ears rang and at the same time her entire body felt like it was being pulled apart one molecule at a time. Everything within her strained to the breaking point until, finally, there was a snap and she was pulled into the light.

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 _Ta da! Irma is rescued! But how and by who? Watchers of the 2012 series will know :)_

 _Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to everyone who left a review! You are all wonderful and I appreciate your comments immensely :)_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing_

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Being teleported was not something Irma wished to experience ever again. It didn't hurt exactly, but having your atoms pulled apart, flung from one dimension to another and then reassembled somewhere new was no picnic. For a little while all she could do was wrap her arms around herself and shiver while her nerve endings calmed down and her brain stuttered back online.

Something bumped against her shoulder and she cried out, drawing back reflexively. "Sorry," the man mumbled as he shuffled away and she blinked after him in dull surprise. It was the first human voice she had heard in a very long time.

The man continued to drift aimlessly away from her and beyond his hunched form she could see he was not the only person milling about, the wide street was jammed to the hilt with humans and more were arriving every second. Even as she watched another figure materialised only a few feet from her in a riot of golden particles before staggering away, groaning and holding her head.

At first the returned humans seemed unsure of what to do with their newfound freedom and Irma was no different. She stumbled out of the middle of the increasingly cluttered street and clung to a lamp post while she watched the crowd grow larger. Eventually people began to regain their senses, a few began to sob around disbelieving smiles while others let out sharp whoops that seemed to be an equal mix of shock and elation. All of them clutched at themselves, running their hands over hair and skin as they searched their bodies for pink growths that were no longer there.

Without warning the power suddenly snapped back on. As a rolling wave of light flooded the city a roaring cheer went up in it's wake. Irma realised that, judging by the sheer volume assaulting her eardrums, the surrounding streets must be rapidly filling with humans too. It sounded as if all of New York was raising their voice as one, vibrating the very air with their cry. How many people had the Kraang taken to work in their crystal fields?

The cheers eventually died down a little and people began to move with a renewed purpose. Some continued to celebrate, hugging and smiling with those around them as they laughed in relief. Others turned more serious. Irma saw a young woman push her way through the crowd, calling out the names of her loved ones as she searched with increasing desperation. A little boy began to sob loudly for his mommy while an older man tried to comfort him.

 _Mom. Dad._

Thinking about her parents had Irma moving. Not knowing where she was she picked a direction and started walking as fast as she dared, peering around nearsightedly to try and spot a street sign while at the same time weaving around people and abandoned vehicles. When she finally worked out where she was she was immensely relieved to discover just how close she was to her flat. The first bit of luck she'd had in a long time.

Still the journey seemed to take much longer than it should have. Wailing sirens started up in the distance and the sky above thrummed with the accompanying sound of approaching helicopters. The crowded streets strained and heaved as people pushed towards their own homes in the hope of reuniting with their families. Some optimistically headed for the subway tunnels while others attempted to restart the abandoned cars only to find flat batteries and tyres hampered their efforts.

By the time Irma reached the end of her own street the surrounding buildings were awash with a rotation of red and blue lights. The calvary had arrived and it was using megaphones to urge the citizens of New York to proceed to their homes in an orderly fashion. Irma's heart clenched when she caught sight of her building and against the blaring advice she picked up her tired feet and broke into a sprint. Down the street, past the alley mouth where all this had begun and on to the steps of her building. Craning her neck she paused just long enough to see that the lights glowed warmly from the third story window before she pushed her way through the front door and raced up the stairs.

Finally, against all odds, she was home.

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 _Wrote this after a long day, hope its okay :)_

 _Please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Here it is, the moment we've all been waiting for!_

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The sound of her feet clomping up the stairs mingled with her harsh breathing and the resulting echoes were obscenely loud in the empty stairwell. Three flights of stairs flew by beneath her feet but when she finally arrived at the door of her apartment Irma came to an abrupt halt, body trembling as she stared at the darkly stained wood. An ache settled in her chest at the familiar sight, the hope that had driven her home battling with the sudden fear that gripped her. What if they weren't here? Or worse, what if she found the unthinkable? The unknown drained the strength from her limbs and in that moment she found she didn't _want_ to know. Standing here in limbo she remained free as long as she hid from what she might find on the other side.

As her breathing slowed and her heart ceased to pound in her ears she became aware once again of the noises outside on the street. The city was alive with the sounds of voices and sirens. Millions of people were in her exact position as they desperately sought to be reunited with their family and friends. The thought that she wasn't alone bolstered her.

Irma gathered her courage and forced herself to reach out a trembling hand to grip the brass knob. The metal was cool beneath her fingers and she didn't know whether to be worried or relieved when it turned easily. Soft yellow light from her apartment spilled through the widening gap and beckoned her forward.

"Mom? Dad?"

Her voice entered the apartment ahead of her, rough with disuse. She pushed the door open wider and stepped over the threshold before pausing again. Vague, fuzzy outlines were all she could discern and she squinted in mounting frustration.

"Hello?"

There was no answer, only her own voice bouncing back to her from empty rooms. Her nose wrinkled as she caught the faint odour of decay that twisted the air where there should have been the smells of home.

Cautious steps carried her into the living room. Something wasn't right. She squinted, frustrated when her tired eyes refused to focus on the finer details of the room and instead left her with an impression of dishevelment.

Unsteady legs carried her through the apartment, down the short hallway and into her bedroom. She stumbled to her bedside table and groped through the contents of the top draw until she found her spare pair of glasses, a relic from her childhood buried amongst the other paraphernalia. As soon as she donned them the world snapped into focus and she was finally able to see clearly. Blurred lines sharpened around her and with it came a reality so real it was painful, stealing the last of the strength from her legs.

Sinking down onto the edge of her bed she cast her eyes about the small room, taking in the once familiar space that now felt almost alien to her. She imagined how it looked through the other Irma's eyes and at once felt like an imposter in a space she had once called her own. Her bookshelf still groaned under the weight of her collection of books, textbooks mingled indiscriminately with a large collection fiction novels. The doors to her wardrobe were open and she saw her small collection of clothes hanging neatly on hangers above the orderly row of shoes that lined the floor of the cupboard. Her dresser still held her the same personal items. The same posters graced her walls. How could it all look so...normal?

She hated all of it. Her most private space had been soiled, muddied during her absence by an alien from another planet that had taken her face. An inarticulate cry ripped from her throat as she rose from the bed, sweeping her arm across the top of her dresser to shove everything to the floor before moving on to the posters and ripping them from the wall with clawed fingers. She flung the doors of her wardrobe wide and snatched at the clothes, pulling them from their hangers so violently she tripped backwards when they abruptly gave way.

Sinking to the floor with an armful of dresses and shirts she howled in frustration. The angry cries coming from her throat morphed and suddenly she was crying in great heaving sobs as she buried her face in her hands. Her home was empty and twisted, her parents absent. All she was left with was a great gaping hole where her life used to be.

"Irma?"

Her head snapped up, disbelief warring with a crushing hope that froze every atom in her body. Without realising it she held her breath, half convinced that she'd summoned the voice out of her memory from sheer desperation.

"Irma? Baby, are you here?"

"Mom!" The word ripped from her throat and spurred her into action. She scrambled up from the floor and shot out of her room so fast she bounced off the opposite wall. The ache in her shoulder barely registered as she launched herself down the hallway and back to the large living room where her mother's call had come from. And there, standing beside their old overstuffed couch, were her parents.

Time stood still as they stared at each other. Irma drank in the sight of them, noting how their clothes hung from thin frames, the dark circles darkened the skin beneath their eyes, their hair hanging limp over their faces. They looked amazing.

"Oh, sweetie..."

Her father's tremulous voice unlocked her limbs and the next thing she knew she was throwing herself across the room and into their waiting arms. Tears rose again and she buried her face in her mothers chest, feeling the kisses that rained down onto the crown of her head. Beneath her ear her father's heart beat strongly as he quietly shushed her. They held her so tightly she felt anchored in the moment, safe at last.

"It's okay, it's okay sweetie. We've got you."

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 _Naaaaawwwwwww!_

 _Review please :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi everyone. I can't believe it took me so long to get the next chapter up. I have been thinking about Irma's story a lot though and know where I want to go next with it. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing what people think so keep those comments coming :)_

 _Now this chapter hasn't been beta read because I'm impatient and just wanted to get it posted. I wrote it all in one sitting which usually leads to errors so let me know if you see any mistakes or think I haven't explained something well enough._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT_

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Irma hummed to herself in satisfaction as she tied off the last garbage bag. The rustle of plastic was loud as it bounced back to her off bare walls. She straightened, brushing hair back from her forehead with the back of her wrist as she admired her handiwork.

In the middle of her bedroom was a large pile of black garbage bags that held the last of her personal possessions, the rest had already been similarly packed up and lugged away to be left on the sidewalk for collection or donated to charity. Only her most precious items remained, the few things she couldn't bring herself to throw away. Most of them were books of course, but she'd also kept her photo album, some jewellery given to her by her grandparents and some other knick knacks that held nostalgic value. Everything else was being tossed.

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

Irma jumped a little when her mom's voice spoke up behind her. She whirled around as the older woman stepped into the empty space and looked it over with a bemused expression.

"All your clothes?" She asked as she spotted the empty wardrobe, "honey..."

"I don't want any of it anymore mom," Irma interrupted firmly.

"I know sweetie but it just seems like such a shame," her mom continued as she circled Irma and went to the small dresser, sighing when she saw that the collection of creams and sprays were missing too. She perched on the edge of the bed, bare now except for one pillow and the knitted blanket she'd made for Irma when she was just a baby. She ran her fingers over the soft wool absently as she studied her daughter with a troubled air. "With everything that's happened it just doesn't seem right to throw away all of your things like this. Maybe if you just wait a few more days you'll change your mind?" she suggested gently.

Irma's face crumpled a little, a tremble creeping into her voice as she looked at her mother pleadingly. "Please mom. I know it's weird but...I really need a fresh start and I can't...I can't do that if...if...I c-can't..." Words failed her as she floundered for a way to explain. She couldn't express how dirty this room had made her feel and how cathartic it was to throw away every single thing the other Irma would have touched. Her mom wouldn't understand unless she explained _everything_...

"It's okay," her mom said quickly in the face of her daughter's distress, rising from the bed and wrapping her up in a tight hug. "If this is what you need to do then we'll do it."

The tension that had built in Irma's shoulders slowly seeped away as her mother continued to shush in her ear and she relaxed into the embrace. Her mom's pure acceptance was like a balm. It was obvious she didn't understand why her daughter was acting so oddly and the way she set her curiosity aside so readily made Irma's heart ache with love for her.

Irma knew that on some level she was being unfair to both her parents by keeping the whole truth to herself, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell them what had really happened to her. They had already been through so much. It would crush them to know that, for an entire year before the invasion, they had been living with an alien. One of the very aliens that had eventually taken over the city and enslaved the human population. And while this 'other Irma' had been living comfortably under their roof their own child was being held captive on another world.

No, it was better this way. As far as her parents knew Irma had been caught up with the rest of the city on the day the invasion had started. They'd spent two harrowing weeks looking for their missing daughter before also being captured and sent to work on the Kraang crystal islands. For six long months they'd toiled as mutants before they were rescued along with everyone else.

"So this fresh start involves a haircut, right?" Her mom said teasingly, pulling back so she could smooth a hand over Irma's long ponytail. She rubbed the ends between her fingertips as she studied the dull violet that had once been a vibrant purple hue and cut into a neat, chin length bob. Now Irma's natural mousy brown colour had grown back and her hair was an odd mix of the two lacklustre colours as it fell well past her shoulders.

"And a new wardrobe," Irma's mouth twisted with a small smile as she gestured to herself. The dark blue Yankees t-shirt she'd borrowed from her dad was so large it nearly swamped her completely, her black leggings only visible from the knees down. Everyone had lost weight during the invasion, either malnourished by the Kraang or reduced to scrounging for food in the city that had turned into a war zone overnight. Even if Irma had decided to keep her old clothes they still would have hung loosely on her diminished frame.

"I think we should be able to do something about both of those things, maybe even get you a new pair of glasses too." Her mom smiled then stepped over to grasp a garbage bag in each hand. She began to lug them towards the door. "Come on, we might as well take these with us."

"Thanks mom." Irma gave her empty room one more glance before grabbing the last two bags and following her mother out of the room.

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 _This chapter is a bit quiet but I think that's needed after all the drama. (Don't worry, things will heat up again pretty soon) A little glimpse into the timeline of Irma's captivity and the first chapter where Irma has extended dialogue. And isn't her mom a sweetheart?_

 _Review please! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hey everyone! I'm taking a little break from thinking about 'Neko' to write a new update for 'Irma'. I left her in such a fluffy place last chapter I almost felt bad plunging her back into turmoil again...almost._

 _Thanks to all the reviewers from last time. Again I had a few I couldn't reply to personally so..._

 _MARSHMELLOWTOASTIE - Irma's mum is giving her time and space. She knows something more is going on with her daughter but every time she tries to push her Irma gets too upset (plus she'd dealing with her own PTSD as well I'm sure)._

 _Guest - I loved your succinct review. She will indeed!_

 _Disclaimer: I own everything! Wait...no I don't...sad face :(_

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The battle for New York had left scars.

Some were visible. Like the apartment building just down the street which looked like it had been kicked by a giant foot; the entire west corner of the upper floors was missing, jagged brick lined the uneven hole that exposed abandoned rooms like something out of a war zone. Or like the long row of shops in the neighbourhood which had been burnt to the ground, very few humans had been left to fight the blaze or even care about the destruction at the time.

Others were partially hidden. The way people twitched if you approached them from behind, or jumped at a sudden, loud noise. Or that the newly repaired shopfronts barely concealed the fact that there was precious little for left to sell after looters had stolen or broken most of the wares over the last six months. The saddest part was the way the city seemed a little emptier. Eventually the realisation came that some people simply hadn't been found, swallowed up somewhere along the way and leaving a different kind of hole in the lives of their loved ones.

The worst were the unseen. Irma felt them looming like a dark cloud. The sense that this wasn't over, that their unknown rescuers had simply prolonged the inevitable when they'd retrieved them from the Kraang's home world. She was sure that horrible dreams that haunted her must surely plagued everyone else as well. Alien landscapes in shades of pink and purple, the deep hopelessness of being torn from everything you knew. Weeks had passed since she'd been returned home and still the nightmares hadn't dimmed.

When Irma and her father passed by the wreckage of a partially demolished building her feet faltered, unintentionally bringing her to a stop beside the tall fence made of battered plywood. On the other side of the barrier she'd thought she'd heard something, a sound that had sent uncomfortable ripples of recognition down her spine.

The city that never slept continued to earn its reputation. Day and night there was a constant rumble that churned in the background as the neighbourhood underwent repairs, a cacophony of machinery. It had become such that no one really noticed it anymore but now that Irma strained to listen it suddenly seemed to swell and fill her ears until she trembled with frustration. Somewhere underneath all the busywork she was sure she'd heard a voice.

A tow truck rumbled past on it's never ending quest to clear the streets of abandoned cars so she stepped closer to a gap in the wood, turning her head to press an ear to the opening. Without realising it she held her breath, waiting for the noise to come again, frowning when she thought she caught a hint of sound on the edge of her hearing. What _was_ that?

Suddenly the hissing rose and her face contorted with horror, limbs locking up so that her step backwards became jerky and stiff. It was a voice, soft but unmistakable. Monotone yet laden with hatred somehow. No...not one voice, many voices speaking together as one...

"You okay honey?"

Her dad's voice brought her head around with a snap. He'd continued down the sidewalk for a while before realising she'd stopped and was now almost at the end of the fenceline, brow wrinkled with mild concern as he tilted his head at her then glanced at his watch. "We gotta keep moving or we'll miss collecting our rations."

Rations. Irma blinked at her dad while she gathered her scattered wits. Resources were being carefully controlled in the city. While most shops had re-established some semblance of trade in the weeks since the eviction, there were certain things that were still scarce in the city. Power and water had quickly been restored but other consumables were still in short supply. A group of soldiers who called themselves the Earth Protection Force had been assigned the task of handing out essentials such as food and medicine while the community got back on it's feet. They worked closely with the army and police, sticking to a rigid schedule that left no room for error and had no tolerance for hoarding or looting. Anyone stepping out of line was dealt with firmly and there was no sympathy for citizens who missed deadlines, if Irma and her dad didn't make it to their designated distribution centre in time they would almost certainly go hungry tonight.

"Coming."

Irma forced the word out through numbed lips, smoothed her face back into what she hoped was a normal expression and urged her feet to move. A small smile tilted her dad's mouth as he watched her approach. When she reached his side he tucked her arm through his own and gave her hand a squeeze as they continued on their way. Even as the contact soothed her Irma still fought to keep the frown from reappearing on her face, she turned her head away so her father wouldn't see.

An old scar was reopening in Irma's head. One that had never had the chance to fully heal and perhaps never would. She could feel the tender edges of it tearing, peeling open under the pressure to expose raw flesh.

Whispers.

Whispers.

They were back in her head.

* * *

 _Ohhhhhh! What now?_

 _Review please!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey everyone! Sorry updates are starting to take a while. 'Neko' is sucking up a lot of my thinking space...which is kinda funny because the actual_ writing _of the next chapter is very slow going, *sigh*._

 _Anyway, enough of moaning about other stories, what about this story? Well first of all a big thanks to my lovely reviewers and followers out there. Some of you are people I can't reply to personally so..._

 _MARSHMELLOWTOASTIE - thanks! I know I'm writing fanfic for a kids cartoon but I like to put a realistic edge on the world the turtles live in. I imagine that New York took a hammering during the invasion, especially with the EPF fighting back._

 _Guest - yeeeeeesssss! Irma is a tough girl, she can take it ;) Cool things are around the corner for her so don't worry._

 _And with that out of the way I continue with the story...also I own nothing. (Do I have to say that each time, it's sad!)_

* * *

 _"...transport of molecules and ions across all cellular membranes is mediated by transport proteins associated with the underlying..._ god damn it!"

Irma flung back the covers, almost falling to the floor as the bed sheet twisted around her legs. She staggered a little then whirled on the offending linen, snatching it up and aggressively scrunching it into a big ball before burying her face in it and unleashing a muffled scream. Tantrum not quite finished she flung it to the floor so she could give it a good couple of kicks that left her unsatisfied when it provided little resistance to her bare feet. She stood over it and seethed, chest heaving with barely restrained anger.

Three days of alien whispering and she was creeping towards going certifiably insane. Too tired and strung out to feel scared of the voices in her head anymore now she was just pissed.

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!" She hissed as she pressed her fists against her temples. "Don't you things ever _sleep_?"

She started to pace, hands dropping from her temples to wrap around her middle in a tight hug. A few short steps and she reached the wall, glared at it balefully, then turned to stalk towards the window. She ground her teeth in an effort to remain silent. It was past midnight, her parents were fast asleep next door. They were already starting to get worried by her change in mood over the last few days, if they heard her pacing in her room at this hour they would be downright frightened.

The whispers were worse at night. During the day it was busy and noisy which provided a distraction from the constant alien chatter. Sometimes she even managed to ignore them completely for an hour or two. But when it was dark and still the voices swelled to the point where they almost felt like they were ricocheting around in her skull like hundreds of tiny ping pong balls. Chanting helped a little, a habit she found it all too easy to slip back into. But not tonight it seemed, instead it was as though the entire room echoed with the noise.

Irma paused at her bedroom window, gripping the sill with both hands and pressing her forehead against the cool glass until her glasses clinked on the smooth surface. A gush of pent up breath fogged the view and she focussed on watching the white condensation while it quickly receded again. She tilted her head upward to try and catch a glimpse of the night sky then lowered her gaze to scan the street. They were out there, whispering their plans to each other. At that moment the thought was infuriating, how _dare_ they? Hadn't they caused enough damage? Enough pain? They'd ripped her life apart once and she hadn't even begun to piece it back together, why couldn't they just _leave her alone_?

"That's _it_."

Before she was aware of what she was planning to do Irma was headed for the door, snatching her runners and shoving her feet into them one at a time as she crept down the hallway. At the front door of her apartment she hesitated, this was New York after all, and groped amongst the items hanging on the coat stand. Seconds later she was stomping down the stairs armed with a scowl and an umbrella.

A block passed before the first seed of doubt began to sprout in her head. What the heck was she _doing_? Marching off in the middle of the night to search out the source of the whispers in her head!? Did she even know how crazy that sounded? Yes, yes she did. And it was pretty crazy, even by New York standards. Her determined march slowed to a moderate walk. What if her parents woke to check on her and found her bed empty? They would more than flip, they would have heart attacks. The walk slowed even further until it was a hesitant meander. And what was she hoping to achieve exactly? Was she going to unearth a Kraang and slap it with her brolly until it agreed to turn the volume down?

She was just about to come to a complete stop and beat a path back home when the whispers made a sharp increase in volume. Looking up Irma realised where her sleep deprived, anger driven stampede had taken her. Just ahead was the abandoned, bordered up block she'd walked past mere days ago with her father. The spot where the whispering had started was only a few strides away.

Instinctively she raised her umbrella, pointing it at the fence as though ready for it to lunge at her. The voices in her head crowded in, clouding her thoughts and fanning the fading spark of anger back into a blaze. She was so close. Was she really going to chicken out _now_? She'd survived on an alien world for eighteen whole months, there was no way she was going to let the rotten little brain bags intimidate her on her own soil. Determination had her lowering her brow and moving forward.

The fence was high, towering over her by a decent couple of feet. She doubted she could jump far enough to grasp the top let alone pull herself up. She walked it's length, one hand trailing along the weather roughened board. When she reached the far end a triumphant smirk curled her mouth, she may not be tall enough to jump it but she was certainly skinny enough to slip through the gap where the fence met the brick of the neighbouring building. She didn't remember the hole being here last time she'd passed, but on that occasion she'd been pretty freaked out and not noticing anything much beyond the renewed Kraang whispers in her head.

A quick wriggle and she was through, legs and arms scraping a little against the rough edges. She paused on the other side of the fence while her eyes adjusted to the dim light. The buildings surrounding the demolished block were high and dark, no lights in the windows suggesting that the small apartment blocks were too damaged to be inhabited. In the middle of the large space was an enormous pile of rubble, as if the entire three story building had folded in on itself. The walls on the far side still partially stood but otherwise it was a large tangle of steel beams and crumbled brick.

 _What now_? Looking at the mess Irma had no idea how to proceed, especially with no light to guide her. She cursed herself for not bringing a torch, frowning in annoyance as she picked her way forward. Her head cocked to the side as the voices shifted and her eyes slid towards the left where she could just make out a path through the piles of debris. It was almost as if they were guiding her. Umbrella at the ready she crept forward, the whispers rose just a little, telling her she was headed the right way.

A dry rattle up ahead had her freezing in her tracks and holding her breath as she listened hard past the noise inside her brain. It sounded as though a piece of the crumbling brick had been knocked loose to clatter on the ground. Was someone else here? A shiver ran up her spine and tightened her grip on the handle of the umbrella. What if it was some _thing_?

 _C'mon Langinstein_ , she chastised herself, _don't wuss out now_.

Her knees felt like jelly as she forced them to keep going. There was a sharp turn in the makeshift path up ahead and the closer she got the more certain she was that there was something moving around behind the rubble. Her hands ached from gripping the umbrella and she was strung so tight she was actually shivering with adrenalin.

Her wide eyes registered the soft glow of a light only a second before it's source rounded the corner and caught her full in the face. She winced against the onslaught, tired eyes burning in protest as her retinas were scorched. Without thinking she let out a battle cry, lunging forward and shoving the tip of her umbrella at the blinding beam of white. The handle jolted in her grip when her thrust met it's mark then the light was spinning away, plunging her back into an uncertain darkness.

* * *

 _Ha ha! Cliffhanger! :)_

 _Did I mention 5 is the magic number? 5 reviews and I feel obligated to get the next chapter up asap. Blackmail? Perhaps. I prefer to call it positive reinforcement *evil laugh*._

 _Seriously though I only got my fourth review for chapter 8 a few hours ago and, while it wasn't my favourite number, I sat down to write this for you all. And had a massively good time doing it :)_

 _Hope you liked it, show your love (or lack thereof) with a review! I'm off to keep working on 'Neko'..._


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, it means a lot to me :)_

 _Guest: sorry, I'm still going to be a little vague about that for a while!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

"Oof!" There was the scuffing sound of small pebbles and grit being crunched underfoot then a dull thud as something hit the ground. " _Ow_...what the hell?"

Irma had the umbrella raised to strike again but when a decidedly human and very male voice yelped with pain she lowered it uncertainly. Whoever she'd just skewered with her umbrella they weren't Kraang.

The beam of light that had blinded her a moment ago was now lying off to one side and she realised it was just a torch, she could see the glint of it's silver handle in the dimness. There was another groan from the mystery person and she hurried to pick up the torch, snatching it up with trembling fingers and fumbling it for a second before sweeping it towards the voice.

"Jeez, could you point that thing a bit lower please?" The guy grumbled from his position on the ground as he threw up one hand to shield his face. The other was rubbing at a spot high on his right shoulder.

"Oh, uh, sorry." She stuttered, shifting the beam so it was illuminating the ground by his feet instead. _Don't apologise_ , she chided herself, _he may not be Kraang but he's still a strange guy out in an abandoned block the middle of the night where Kraang whispers are coming from._

"Did you poke me with an _umbrella_?" His tone rose incredulously and she gripped the handle of her makeshift weapon a little harder.

"Who are you?" She answered his question with one of her own, putting as much steel into her tone as she could muster but wincing when the end result sounded a lot more tremulous than she would have liked. Regardless she pressed on. "What are you doing here?"

She stabbed her umbrella at him threateningly and he held both hands out in a gesture of supplication, "Easy there tiger," his voice was laced with the beginnings of humour, "don't shoot." Irma glowered at him wordlessly, annoyed by the smirk in his tone. "Mind if I stand?"

"Okay," she allowed, "but no funny business." She shook the umbrella warningly, keeping the tip firmly trained on him. His answering huff sounded suspiciously like a laugh but he said nothing as he climbed to his feet. As soon as he was standing she lifted the torch to his chest and at once saw a teenager a bit older than herself, tall and broad shouldered. His jeans and blue t-shirt were smeared with dust as though he'd been crawling around in the rubble for a while. A backpack hung from his shoulders and a pair of odd looking goggles pushed his messy blonde hair back from his brow. Her gaze was just taking in the strong line of his jaw which had a streak of something dark along it when she noticed his hand moving towards the waistband of his jeans.

"Hey!" She moved forward threateningly, heart in her throat. "Don't move!"

"I'm just getting my other torch. Fairs fair after all," he said soothingly, "you can see me but I can't see you. You could be a Kraang droid for all I know."

 _A Kraang droid_? Irma's mouth opened to issue a sharp reply but no sound came out as she realised that she didn't exactly want to be seen by this guy. For one thing he was properly dressed and she'd left her flat without any thought beyond shoes and a weapon...

"I'm not the only one who needs to explain what they're...are you wearing _pink pyjamas_?"

Now he was definitely laughing at her. Irma lifted her chin, forcing herself not to cringe back from the light that was now aimed at her chest and illuminating her choice of night wear. Regardless she could feel a hot flush crawling up her neck and she fought the urge to wince.

"Space Hero's fan huh?"

"It was all they had at the clothing bin." She lied haughtily, "And I wasn't exactly planning on being seen by anyone tonight."

"Well that makes two of us," he moved the beam of light away from her and she wilted with relief, quickly running a hand over her hair and stifling a groan when she felt the tangled mess. Why hadn't she tried harder to get that haircut when her mom had suggested it weeks ago? Not to mention her stupid pink glasses...

"Look, I don't know what _your_ reason is for searching through rubble in the middle of the night, but we should both probably get out of here." Mystery guy was shining his torch back the way he'd come and as he turned Irma's gaze was drawn by the bag strapped to his back. She could have sworn that the whispers had gotten louder as it had come into view. "The Kraang have been increasing in numbers again lately and there's always a chance they'll..."

"Increasing?" Irma blurted, eyes darting to his. "What do you mean _increasing_?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "You didn't think they'd just give up did you?"

She could feel her mouth opening and closing, the strength drained from her arms until the tip of her umbrella bumped on the ground. "What...?"

"Hey, you okay?" He came towards her, gripping her upper arms and peering into her face. As he drew nearer the voices rose sharply and when his hands landed on her skin it was like a live wire being jammed into her brain. She stumbled back, saw his face twist with shock as she dropped the umbrella and the torch so she could press her hands to her temples.

"They're coming." She whimpered, not knowing how she knew but certain of it all the same.

A dull echo reverberated through the rubble around them, the crumbled wreckage humming with tremors caused by an unseen force. A pink glow bled from the twisted path that led deeper into the broken bones of the building and with it came the sound of a robotic clicking, horrifyingly close and familiar.

"Run!"

His low hiss spurred her into motion and without another thought she did as he said, fighting her way back through the maze blindly and feeling him hot on her heels. "Go go go go go!" He chanted breathlessly as they pounded their way through the jumble of bricks and mortar. The gap in the fence loomed before her and she pushed her way through frantically, falling once before picking herself up and whirling to watch him shove his larger frame through the hole. He met her eyes, his one free arm waving at her in a sharp gesture. "Keep going!" Then he was grunting, teeth clenched as he tried to wriggle through the gap.

"Come on!" She lunged forward to pull at his upper arm, straining then falling when he abruptly slid free.

Rough hands helped to her feet then a large palm planted itself in the middle of her back and pushed. "Don't look back."

But she did, just for a second, and while the sight of him running in the opposite direction filled her with relief, the pink glow shining through the gap in the fence didn't. She had just enough time to see it was getting stronger before she snapped her head forward and pelted for home as fast as she could.

* * *

 _Hope you liked it, the next chapter is coming very soon, I already have it written :)_

 _Review please!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for the reviews guys! I only got two but I loved them :) I had this chapter ready to go so I'm posting a bit quicker than normal._

 _Hope it's okay if I use some Adele lyrics, I down own her work either but I think she's amazing and love everything she does to bits._

* * *

 _When the night keeps you from sleeping,_

 _Just look and you will see,_

 _I will be,_

 _I will be,_

 _Your remedy._

A wry smile twisted Irma's mouth as Adele's voice pumped through the tiny speakers directly into her ears. Maybe Adele could hear people's thoughts too, human ones anyway. She was certainly hitting the nail on the head with these lyrics. Irma relaxed further into the armchair by the window, letting the other woman's beautiful vibrato carry her away while she stared out at the rain that had settled over the city during the night. The book on her lap left open as she drifted.

What had started as a desperate search for a way to drown out the whispers from her head had turned into a week of catching up on all the new music she'd missed out on over the last year and a half. She'd gotten the idea to try replacing one noise with another after yet another sleepless night and quite frankly she couldn't believe it had taken her so long to work it out. She blamed the voices for clouding up her brain with their gunk. Music, it turned out, was a life saver. For some reason as soon as she donned her earphones the Kraang whispers died away completely and her entire thought process became clear again. It was like magic, a _miracle_.

A tap on her shoulder had her yanking her headphones down around her neck with a guilty start. Music might be a life saver for her but her parents were starting to get a little fed up with the constant struggle to gain her attention. Especially they didn't understand why their daughter had suddenly decided to block out the outside world by wearing headphones twenty four seven. As usual they took it all in their stride though, accepting this new development for what it was; a coping mechanism, even if they only had a fraction of an idea of what she was coping with.

Every now and then their patience would wear a little thin. Sure enough her dad seemed a tad irritated, his mouth tight just a touch as he looked down at her.

"Have you seen my umbrella? I could have sworn I left it hanging in the hallway."

"Oh, uh..." Irma hummed as she looked back towards the large windows where the glass was rain speckled and the sliver of sky she could see beyond laden with dark clouds. "Sorry dad, haven't seen it." She buried her head back in her book to hide her expression, thoughts immediately going to the night she'd taken her dad's umbrella and used it as a weapon. Guilt gripped her for more than just the borrowed-but-never-returned brolly, she cringed at the thought of her parents discovering her impromptu, and ultimately dangerous, midnight excursion.

Her dad hesitated a moment, she could feel his eyes resting on the crown of her head and despite her efforts to seem casual her heart was pounding up her throat, eyes unfocussed on the text in front of her. Eventually he let out a small sigh, brushing a hand over her hair before moving towards the door. "Guess I'll be getting a little wet then. Catch you girls soon."

Irma and her mum murmured their replies and when the door shut behind her dad Irma let out her own sigh. Her poor dad, he loved that umbrella. Briefly her thoughts again skipped back to the mystery guy she'd poked with that same umbrella. They'd been returning to him more and more often since her adrenalin charged sprint home. Had he gotten away too? What had he been searching for and what had been in his bag? Whatever it was it had made the voices ten times louder.

She sat up a little straighter in the armchair as a thought occurred to her, a frown pinching her brow. The mystery guy had been covered in dust, like he'd been digging through the rubble. That debris was from the building collapsing. It made sense that it had been one of the many structures destroyed during the fight for New York, possibly by a ship crashing into it or something similar. Maybe he was a scrounger searching for alien tech. It would certainly explain the pink glow which she knew to be the Kraang's signature colour. They had turned up looking for the same thing. Irma shuddered before letting out a sigh, she'd never really know unless she saw him again to ask.

She was just raising the headphones back over her ears when there was a musical flourish that effectively stilled the movement. Looking up she saw her mum sitting at the piano, turned sideways to her and giving her a smile while she ran her fingers over the ivory keys to produce a flawless scale which once again sent the Kraang whispers scurrying back into the corners of her brain.

"What are you reading?" Her mom asked without breaking eye contact or pausing in her playing. Irma loved the way she could carry a tune and hold a conversation at the same time, music came as naturally to her as breathing. Unfortunately Irma had not inherited her mother's gift.

Irma held the book up so her mom could see the cover. "Trigonometry," she said before carefully placing the book to one side and rising to cross the room. "I wasn't sure what the readings would be for English so I decided to go with a safe bet." As she approached the piano her mom motioned with her chin to the space on the bench beside her and Irma slid right in, her head naturally coming to rest against her mother's shoulder.

If her daughters weight bothered her the older woman never let it show, instead she continued to play without pause as she probed, "Trig huh? Eager to get back to school next week?"

Irma nodded a little, careful not to jostle too much. "Yeah, I just want everything to go back to normal. School is a cake walk compared to...you know."

Her mom huffed a small laugh, "I know. But it's okay for things not to go back to normal straight away, you get that right? The invasion really shook things up, everyone needs time to heal. To come to terms with what happened."

An unexpected welling of tears had Irma turning her face to bury it in her mother's side. Immediately the older woman stopped playing and instead wrapped an arm around her. "Shhhh, it's alright."

Irma just shook her head, her voice clogged in her throat. After a few minutes she got a hold of herself and pulled away, cheeks burning. She felt so silly, where the heck had that come from?

"You want to talk about it?" Her mom was watching her, warm brown eyes filled with kindness and concern.

Irma slid her gaze away as she shook her head again, a hard core of horribleness inside her making it hard to breathe. She forced a smile onto her face but still didn't meet that loving gaze as she replied, "I'm fine, thanks mom. I'm just going to go read in my room."

"Okay sweetie," her mom replied softly and Irma felt her love reaching out for her in palpable waves, even after she shut the door and lay on her bed. Trembling fingers reinserted the headphones into her ears and music cut her off once again from the outside world.

 _Just look and you will see,_

 _That I will be,_

 _I will be,_

 _I will be._

 _Your remedy._

* * *

 _I'm so excited, school is going back and a lot of you know what that means for our heroine! *wink wink*_

 _What do you think about Irma's solution for the Kraang whispers?_

 _Review please!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hey! I'm in a terrible place at the moment. I have 27 reports to complete and instead I'm writing fanfic lol. At least you guys reap the benefits :p_

 _Thanks for the comments, faves and follows! I get so motivated by them as you know._

 _Oh and I should warn you all that what I know about American high schools is from movies. Feel free to fill me in on any details I missed :)_

* * *

All week Irma had been struggling with the feeling she was being watched. Whenever the sensation crept over her it was like wearing an uncomfortable second skin, it made her feel jumpy. Twitchy. On edge.

It came and went so randomly she couldn't make out any pattern to it besides the fact that it only happened while she was at school. Between classes, as she was making her way through the press of bodies, she would suddenly get the distinct impression that someone was staring at her. Sometimes it would follow her until she got to class, other times it would fade quickly when she turned a corner. A few times during a lesson her pen had stilled over paper when the press of eyes weighed on her, a glance around the classroom revealing nothing significant. One morning she had been swamped by the feeling a good block before she even reached school and it had stayed with her all the way to homeroom.

These sensations, while not particularly threatening, were horrible. Combined with the ever present threat of Kraang whispers overtaking her brain and the lingering nightmares that interrupted her sleep, Irma was left feeling like every day she was taking another bunch of tottering steps towards crazy town.

Like right now while she was trying to eat her lunch.

She'd been sitting at the end of the long table for only handful of minutes but the entire time the hairs along the back of her neck had been tingling ever so slightly. Irma paused, her half chewed sandwich an ashy lump in her mouth, and once again swivelled in her seat to scan the busy cafeteria. Among the sea of faces she still couldn't pick out a single one that was specifically fixated on her, but the creepy feeling was there all the same.

Deciding she couldn't take the unseen eyes anymore Irma dropped her lunch back onto the tray and gathered up her things to make a hasty exit. As she did so she saw the group she'd been sitting on the fringes of sharing a few raised eyebrows between them. She bit her lip but didn't spare them a glance. To be honest the fact that she'd never even taken her earphones off had dissuaded them from trying to talk to her in the first place. While she was aware that her abrupt departure was just strengthening the reputation she was earning for herself as being one of the weird ones, she couldn't bring herself to sit down again and try to engage with her peers. She just needed to get away from whoever was watching her.

As she dumped her half eaten food into the trash the tense sadness that was always twisting her chest lately got a little tighter. Had she really thought school would be a cake walk? She could hear herself from two weeks ago telling her mom that very thing and it made her cringe. School was _nothing_ like baked goods. Sure, the work being set by the teachers wasn't too challenging considering as she'd essentially skipped an entire grade, it was the human element she was finding much more difficult to negotiate than she'd expected. Even without the unseen eyes turning her into a twitchy mess.

For a start there were way too many bodies crammed into her old high school. On the first day back there'd been an assembly in the gymnasium, scores of teens packed onto tiered seating until it literally felt like they reached the rafters. Their new principal, a tall woman with a kind-yet-firm demeanour, had launched into a welcome speech featuring highlights on the impact of the Kraang invasion, one of them being the destruction of a neighbouring high school which had left close to a thousand seniors without an academic roof over their head. As a result the nomadic tribe been split, divvied up amongst the surviving schools while theirs was being rebuilt. An effort that would take at least two years and see everyone here through to the end of their school years.

Perhaps hardest to deal with was the recognition, or lack thereof, that she saw in people's eyes when they looked at her. People she used to be friends with brushing right past her while other's she'd never met gave her a smile or a friendly hello. Teachers she didn't know talking to her about assignments she hadn't done, classes she hadn't taken. It reminded her of the 'other Irma' and how her place in the world had been stolen. Walking the halls felt like running a gauntlet and she was left with the distinct feeling that _she_ was the imposter.

Irma shoved her way through the cafeteria doors and into those very halls as she struggled to escape the watchful feeling. Thanks to the time of day it was emptier than usual, but there was still a group of around four students heading towards her and Irma schooled her face into composure as they neared, forcing her lips to curve upwards. Last thing she needed was to look as freaked out and desperate as she felt. A quick mental check told her that the creepy feeling of being observed had abated so she had that going for her at least.

The polite smile froze on Irma's face when her gaze clashed with one of the girls in the small group, confusion mixing with a cold feeling in her stomach as she took in the other girl's widening green eyes. She looked horrified. There was no other way to describe it. Her pale skin whitened even further until the smattering of freckles across her nose stood out in stark relief and her jaw dropped as her mouth formed a perfect 'o' of shock.

Irma's footsteps faltered uncertainly as she took in the other girl's reaction but she managed to keep walking, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder just in case there was actually something threatening behind her causing the concern. Nope, all clear to the rear. She steeled herself and faced forward again, clutching her books to her chest and quickening her steps as she came level with the group of teens.

The girl was still staring.

She gave a start as she realised that the girl was more than just staring now. In the time it had taken Irma to briefly look away the shock had gone from the other girl's face and been replaced by one of...anger? The redhead looked furious. Her eyes had narrowed to glittering slits and Irma flinched when the girl's hand dropped to the waistband of her denim jean shorts. She got the ridiculous yet distinct impression that the teen was reaching for a weapon and she clutched her books even tighter to her chest.

The other group finally passed by and the eye contact was broken. Irma let out a pent up breath, only just managing to stop herself from actually breaking into a sprint. Even so her steps could definitely be described scurrying as she continued down the hallway, the clomp of her boots sounding unnaturally loud on the lino. She could feel fear tightening all the muscles in her body as a sweat popped out on her brow. Why had that girl looking at her like she knew her? _Hated_ her?

Up ahead Irma caught sight of the sign for the bathrooms and made a beeline for the door. Safety lay beyond in the form of cool tiles and confined cubicles. If she could just be alone for a moment then maybe she would be able to gather her thoughts and work out exactly what was going on. Pull herself back together a little and get it straight in her head what had just happened.

As she pushed on the swinging door and ducked inside one question repeated itself over and over in her mind like a broken record.

Who the heck _was_ that?

* * *

 _We know who it was! What did you think? Was it the meeting you were hoping for? Obviously this is just the beginning so stay tuned..._

 _Review please!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks to my lovely reviewers, you make my day :)_

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Irma dropped her books on the counter then clutched the edges of the basin and breathed deeply through her nose, blowing streams of air back out through pursed lips as she attempted to calm her racing heart. For the life of her Irma couldn't work out why the red headed girl had been staring at her like that, or why her shocked-turned-furious glare had effected her so badly - those piercing green eyes had chilled her to the bone.

Irma gave one last little shudder then sucked in an especially deep lungful of air. _You're blowing this way out of proportion_ she admonished herself sternly. But still she couldn't looking up to study her reflection in the mirror, trying to see what the girl had seen. Plain brown eyes looked back at her, framed by the black rims of her new glasses. Confusion and worry were evident within their depths and in the crease between her eyebrows. She moved her gaze over the rest of her image, frowning when all she saw was...herself. Same as always. She'd finally given herself a bit of a makeover in preparation for school. Her hair was now back to being a shade of purple so dark it was almost black, although she'd left it long rather than chop it back to a chin length bob. Only her fringe was the same length as before, just brushing her eyebrows. She'd given her wardrobe a similar update. Although it was still dominated by the darker colours she'd favoured before her abduction, she'd decided to move away from the ripped shirts and short skirts she'd used to favour. Today she'd opted for a simple grey t-shirt - a silver smiley face with crosses for eyes stitched across the chest - and a pair of black jeans. The few leather bracelets clipped around her wrists and her ever-present earphones were the only additions to her outfit, which was pretty plain by any standard.

Irma shook her head at her reflection, stepping back then hugging her arms around herself to rub her hands up and down the goosebumps on her upper arms. Obviously she still had a lot of work to do in recovering from her abduction, she must be suffering from some kind of PTSD or something. It was the only reason she could think of for the redhead to have gotten to her so badly. Surely she'd exaggerated the other girl's reaction in her mind? There was really no reason for her to have glared at Irma with such hatred when they'd never laid eyes on each other before. Was there? No, she was over reacting.

A loud huff echoed off the tiles as Irma shook her head once sharply. "You can't stay in here all day." She informed her image. With one last glance over her reflection she gathered up her text books and headed for the door. Moments later a peek into the hallway confirmed that the lunch break was coming to an end, the corridor now slightly more crowded than when she'd left it. On cue the bell rang and the flow of students intensified in response as everyone headed for their next class. A tense breath escaped Irma's lungs and she frowned as she realised that she'd been scanning the hallway in search of the redhead with green eyes, a part of her had almost been expecting the other girl to be waiting for her to re-emerge from the bathroom.

Overreacting Langenstein.

Irma left the safety of the doorway and joined the flow of teens with a determined set of her jaw, the timetable she'd memorised days ago telling her that she was due for History. When she reached the end of the hallway without incident she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. See? Nothing to worry about.

She had just placed her foot on the bottom step of the staircase when there was an angry gasp from somewhere above her. Dread pinched her stomach as her head shot up to find the source of the noise, half expecting to see the red headed girl again. For the second time in less than half an hour she was met with a narrowed glare, but this time it was by dark eyes set in a scowling face. She just had time to register that the owner of the dark eyes also had a crooked nose and lanky black hair held back by a bandana before a fist encased in fingerless gloves crashed into her face.

Pain bloomed along her left cheekbone and crackled into the cartilage of her nose, sending white sparks spinning across her vision. Dimly she heard the thuds as her books hit the floor but it wasn't until the back of her head bounced off the lino painfully that she realised she'd fallen. Shocked voices cried out and when she blinked her eyes open everything was fuzzy, figures with blurred faces forming a ring as they looked down on her. She raised a hand to find her glasses were gone, wincing at the sting when her fingers brushed her face and came away wet. Had some guy really just punched her in the face? She struggled to sit, wincing as the pounding in her head intensified.

"Hey!" There was a furious shout which sparked more gasps and a few whoops from the gathering crowd. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Get offa me man!"

The angry voices degenerated into a mix of grunts, scuffling feet and unmistakable thwacks of fists hitting flesh. The people around her let out a few encouraging cheers and amidst the chaos someone pushed through the crowd to crouch by her side. Irma squinted into the fuzzy face of her English teacher.

"Irma, are you okay?"

She was helped to her feet then her glasses were gently pushed into her hands. She slipped them on and the world around her came back into focus.

The kind, concerned expression on Miss Glesti's face prompted an embarrassing rush of tears. "I...I'm fine." Irma managed, forcing the lie out past the lump in your throat.

"No, you're not." The blonde woman shook her head as she slipped an arm around Irma's shoulders. "Let's get you to sick bay, you need an icepack."

Irma nodded, brushing a hand under her nose and this time seeing the blood that stained her fingertips. She grimaced and wiped as much of it away as she could before rubbing her hand on her pants quickly, looking around to see if anyone was staring. The students crowded around her seemed to be caught between glancing at her curiously and watching some kind of scuffle that was still going on at the base of the stairs. The press of bodies made it impossible to see but just then a booming voice cut over the gaggle of teenage voices.

"Jones! Donaldson! Both of you report to the principals office, _now_!"

The crowd parted and Irma tensed under Miss Glesti's comforting arm when two teenage boys - each held firmly by the collar by the burly teacher behind them - came into view. The lanky, dark haired one on the right was protesting loudly, shoes skidding on the lino as he was pushed along. A purple bruise was forming along the right side of his jaw and his shirt was stretched out in the chest as if someone had grabbed a fistful of it not too long ago. He caught sight of Irma and practically snarled, lips pulling back to show a missing front tooth before he began yelling again.

Irma barely noticed his tirade. Instead her attention was drawn to the guy on the right. Her eyes widened with recognition the moment they fell on him and her jaw dropped as she took in the same broad shoulders and messy blonde hair that she'd first seen weeks ago amongst the rubble. He ran his eyes over her face in return, a frown twitched his brow for just a second before dark blue eyes met hers and he threw her a wink coupled with a lopsided smile. All she could do was gape at him as he passed by, the last in a long line of shocks finally robbing her of her wits completely.

Miss Glesti's saw her expression and tutted softly, "let's get you that ice pack."

Irma nodded mutely and let herself be steered away.

* * *

Mystery guy is back and now we know his last name is Donaldson (sorry, Major, you're still going to have to wait for that first name lol).

Hope you all liked it!


	14. Chapter 14

_Sorry about the delay, a little bit of writers block for all my stories unfortunately. I hope you all enjoyed the festive season! :)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT characters._

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He landed silently on the fire escape then crouched below the windowsill, one kneepad pressed to the cool metal and the fingertips of his right hand splayed next to it for balance. Eddies of air swirled around him, dancing over his skin and lifting the tails of his mask while three stories below the sounds of late night traffic drifted up to him on the currents. If he listened hard enough he could make out individual voices of the humans that passed below, but he wasn't concerned that one would look up and see him. The shadows here were deep.

A few beats passed before he rose slightly on the balls of his feet and risked a quick glance through the glass. Thick curtains blocked his view. He sank back with a frown and tapped his chin, his intel was good and he was certain that this was the right room. After a small hesitation he decided to proceed and reached for the frame of the window, mentally running through contingency plans in the event he found it locked. He'd brought his glass cutting tools but, considering that he wanted his passing to go unnoticed, they were to be used as a last resort only. When the panel slid smoothly on well oiled tracks he allowed himself a small smile - hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

Seconds later he was on the other side and sliding the window closed again soundlessly. It wouldn't do for an errant breeze or honking car to alert the rooms inhabitant. Despite his bulk he knew his entrance had been barely noticeable, not the slightest rustle had given away his passing. Even so he froze, once again in a crouch as he scanned the bedroom. His heart pounded away annoyingly in his ears - a natural, adrenalin driven response considering the potential danger he was putting himself in - but counterproductive in the circumstances as it prevented him from hearing anything useful.

He squinted slightly at the dark lumps and formless shadows that filled the room. It was far too dark to reliably make out anything by sight. Falling back on his strongest sense he took a long, deep draw through his nostrils. Immediately a mix of smells were registered then catalogued by his brain. Fresh paint, a month or two old at the most, suggested the room had been redecorated lately. Over that a trace of vanilla body spray and other scented lotions, all pointing towards the likely hood that this was indeed a girl's room. From a little way off he caught a trace of blood mixed in with the other dirty clothes in the hamper. It fit with Casey's claim that it - whatever _it_ was - had bled when the vigilante punched it.

He hesitated a moment before lowering the small night vision goggles over his eyes and flicking them on. The tiny amount of green light that came with their activation was a small risk but one he needed to take.

At first glance he could tell that the room was spartan, very little in the way of furniture or decoration. There was a dresser in the far corner, its surface relatively uncluttered. The built-in robe had both doors hanging open, displaying a meagre amount of clothing hanging above a few pairs of boots and shoes. His attention was grabbed by the single bed pushed up against the far wall. The shapeless lump there rose and fell minutely in time with the soft breaths he could just make out in the still room. His gaze locked there, narrowing thoughtfully. Robots needed to breathe about as much as they needed to sleep. Although, if this was a Kraang-bot spy, then it still needed to keep up the pretence of human traits for appearances sake. If it was human, well...His eyes shifted back to the hamper beside the door, a frown pulling at his brow when the scent, faint but unmistakable, continued to drift from the soiled linen.

He needed to get a closer look at what was under those covers.

His heartbeat rose again to thump in his ears as he crept towards the bed, surprising him with it's intensity. The one and only time he'd seen the Irma-bot that housed Kraang Sub-Prime he'd been fighting for his life mere seconds later. Memories of that night ran through his mind, causing his breath to catch and palms to sweat.

Too late to turn back now.

He reached out one trembling hand towards the edge of the sheet and carefully, oh so carefully, peeled it back. A tumble of dark hair was revealed, followed by a round face with a snub nose. From beneath the covers came the warm scent of skin and body heat. The girl let out a small huff in her sleep and he felt his eye ridge rise in surprise when he saw a line of drool emerging from the side of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered. The hand beneath her bruised cheek twitched. She was stirring.

He dropped the sheet and snatched his hand back hurriedly. Human, definitely human. There was no need for any of the other gadgets he'd brought along to gather evidence, he was convinced. This girl, whoever she was, she was the real deal.

Fourteen seconds later he was climbing back up the side of the building to reach his brothers, thoughts whirling and tumbling furiously over each other in his mind. Who was in that room? How did they get there and who was behind it? Were the Kraang attempting to re-insert a spy? Was this some kind of double bluff? What was their purpose?

By the time he reached the rooftop he had plenty of questions and no real theories, let alone answers. A hand reached down and he grasped it, allowing his brother to tug him up over the lip. Three sets of eyes fixed on him, waiting for his report. He glanced between them then shot a look over his shoulder, back the way he'd come. A frown pinched his brow.

"Guys, we have a problem."

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 _Please review :)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Crikey, sorry for the long wait. I don't know why this chapter was so hard to write but it really was. Thanks to all those who've stuck with the story and are still reading, I hope some of you are still out there?_

 _'Starfire' and 'Guest' thanks for leaving a review last chapter, I appreciate your encouragement and feedback!_

 _Well it's time for Irma to meet Bob...or whatever his name is ;)_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the TMNT universe._

* * *

It wasn't until Irma felt a tingle on the back of her neck that she realised that the feeling of being watched had been missing for days. Like a sore tooth that she only now noticed was throbbing again. The all too familiar thrum was back - lifting the hairs along her arms and setting her nerves on edge. Far stronger than any other time she'd felt the foreign sensation.

Her head snapped around to scan the busy corridor behind her, one hand slamming her locker shut while she searched the press of bodies. It was the end of a long day and the hallway was packed with teenagers eager to get home. She rose onto the tips of her toes to try and see over the heads of those closest to her. Almost immediately her eyes widened when she caught a glimpse of a tall guy with messy blonde hair walking away from her, the set of his shoulders sparking off something in her memory as he wove his way against the flow of traffic.

She dove into the stream of students, tearing the earphones out of her ears as she went and cutting off the music that helped dim the alien whispers she hated so much. Immediately the Kraang voices rose inside her brain and although she grimaced in distaste at their chatter she didn't stop to reinsert her headphones. She didn't dare take her eyes of the back of the guys head in case he disappeared again.

"Hey!" Irma called out in frustration when he ducked around a corner. Abandoning any pretence of social niceties she began shoving her way through the crowd with her elbows, ignoring the dirty looks and curses that trailed behind her as she skidded her way around the corner after him.

"Hey you!" She yelped when she saw he'd pulled ahead a little, his long legs giving him the advantage while she seemed to be stuck fighting her way against the flow of foot traffic. "God damn it will you people choose a side and stick to it?" She snapped at the crowd pressing in on her.

There were a few titters and jeers, someone further down the hall yelled back "Go Spartans!" and a round of cheers and hoots rose up in response mixed in with the laughter. The kids around her openly smirked at her outburst but she ignored them, pushing past and keeping her sights set on blondie.

As soon as she made it past the group of laughing teens a wave of triumph went through her when she saw that he had finally turned around. It _was_ him. The guy from the rubble, the guy who'd gotten into a fight on her behalf last week. _Mystery guy_.

His brow was creased questioningly as he glanced at the other students around him, seemingly perplexed by their laughter. Wasting no time she ran at him, almost tripping over her own feet when only a few seconds later she had to skid to a stop to avoid crashing into his chest. She tipped her head back to glare up at him, flustered by the struggle of chasing him through a packed hallway.

"Where have you _been_?"

His eyebrows shoot up to his hair line as he stared at her, startled. From the corner of her eye Irma saw dozens of heads snap in her direction and - too late - realised that in her excitement she must have shouted again. Once more sniggers and curious looks had her flushing hotly and she busied herself tightening the straps on her backpack and running her fingers through her ponytail while she took a steadying breath. Willing her cheeks to cool a little Irma cleared her throat. "I've been looking for you." She said at a more reasonable volume, deliberately firming her chin as she met his eye.

Gradually his blue eyes took on a familiar twinkle and his mouth tipped at one corner as he looked her up and down. "Have you?" His face morphed into a lazy, slightly cocky expression than immediately did funny things to her stomach and annoyed her all at the same time.

"Yes." Irma shot back hotly, "I want to know what you were doing in that abandoned lot in the middle of the night. What were you looking for? And why did the Kraang suddenly..."

"Woah, woah, woah!" One finger went to his mouth in a shushing gesture and he grabbed her by the upper arm with his other hand as he scanned the crowd furtively. Irma let out a grunt of surprise when he suddenly dragged her into the classroom behind him, quickly making sure it was empty before closing the door and turning to face her with an incredulous expression. "Seriously, is your volume stuck on high? Or do you insight riots by yelling the word Kraang everywhere you go?" He crossed his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I..." The indignant rebuttal died in Irma's throat when she realised he was right. Her cheeks flushed yet again - shouting the name of the alien race that'd kidnapped an entire city in a crowded hallway hadn't been smart. She pressed her fingertips into her temples, cursing the voices that addled her brain and the shivery sensation that still prickled her skin.

"You're right, sorry. I'm just really surprised to see you again. After the whole umbrella thing then you being there when that guy punched me in the face, you kinda keep popping up outta nowhere then vanishing again..." she trailed off sheepishly then took a deep breath. "Let's start over, I'm Irma." She held a hand out, trying not to fidget when he looked at it for a second then raised his eyes to hers.

"Brodie." He said just before his warm palm connected with hers and sent a new set of tingles up her arm, "nice to meet you."

* * *

 _Bubbles, I hope the wait was worth it :)_

 _Review please!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Oops! Has it seriously been 4 months since I updated? Here's a long chapter by way of apology. :)_

* * *

Late afternoon sun baked into Irma's back, the chain links of the park swing a cool contrast against her palms. She watched the tips of her boots as they slid through the dirt, back and forth with tiny gratings that almost got lost beneath the bustling sounds of the neighbourhood around them. A bunch of little kids played under the watchful eye of their dad on a nearby slide, soon the sun would be setting and the tiny play area would quickly become deserted as night fell. She wondered what her own parents were doing now. Hopefully they wouldn't be too worried that she hadn't come home yet.

The muted creak of plastic drew her attention and she sucked in a small breath to steady herself before glancing towards Brodie from beneath her bangs. He was sitting on the other swing, body turned in her direction as far as he could manage on the narrow seat. He gripped one chain in a large hand while his back leant against the other, his long legs stretched out across the packed earth. His blue gaze hadn't left her the entire walk here.

As soon as their eyes locked the corner of his mouth kicked up into a smile and she had the unsettling feeling he was laughing at her. Again. Well, it was probably deserved. She'd peppered him with questions in the crowded hallways of their school - loud questions that involved shouting the word _Kraang_ around a bunch of recently abducted teenagers - but as soon as the adrenalin had worn off she'd found herself bizarrely tongue tied.

"I get the feeling you're not usually this quiet." Brodie's voice was tinged with humour and Irma's cheeks flushed a little when images from the first time they'd met flashed through her head. She did have a tendency to yell and brandish umbrellas when he was around. But right now, despite the questions she desperately wanted answered, she was finding the words hard to find. The short walk from school to the park had been stilted and awkward and it didn't help in the least that the alien whispers were swirling around in her head muddling her thoughts. Usually she'd just put her headphones back on and subdue them with music but that would probably seem kinda rude right now…

"You okay?"

"Huh?" Irma dropped her fingers from where they'd been rubbing at her temples and blinked at him. "Oh, yeah. Just a headache." She attempted a smile but judging from his dubious expression it probably came across more like a grimace.

His gaze dropped to her cheek and the frown that flickered over his features was like the sun dipping behind a cloud. "Does Casey Jones make a habit of punching you in the face?" His light tone did nothing to hide the sharpness of the question.

"No," Irma lifted her hand again in a belated attempt to cover the fading, yellowed bruise that shadowed her cheekbone. Maybe Brodie thought it was the reason for her throbbing head. "Actually I'd never met him before that day..." She trailed off, frowning as she thought about the _other Irma_. Maybe the doppelganger who'd stolen her life had met Casey before. Maybe _she_ was responsible for the recognition plastered all over his face…

"Really?"

Brodie broke through her thoughts once more. She blinked at him then nodded slowly. As he stared at her his expression melted back into one of mild amusement. He cocked his head to the side, a smile tipping his mouth as he studied her. He must think she was a complete loon, just like everyone else. The thought made her feel desperate, like he was the last person she wanted viewing her in that light. It didn't make sense but then nothing did lately.

"Where have you been?" Irma blurted the question, "this past week I mean. I didn't even know we went to the same school until you popped up out of nowhere, then you just disappeared again."

"I got suspended for fighting." He held up one hand and Irma grimaced when she saw his knuckles had a spattering of faded yellow bruises that matched her own.

"Oh," for some reason guilt made her insides go funny. It was stupid to feel bad for the bizarre fight that had broken out around her last week but she felt compelled to apologise all the same. "Sorry."

Her apology startled a low chuckle out of him. He shook his head at her, "Don't be. It was a stupid thing to do...but kind of satisfying if I'm honest. Jones has always been a tool." His rueful grin almost blinded her. "Besides, I don't really go to school that much anyway so..." he shrugged nonchalantly as if his low academic attendance was no big deal.

"Why not?" Irma knew she sounded more a little horrified. As much as she'd been miserable there lately, the was a strong voice inside her that insisted school was _important_.

Brodie's blue gaze darkened a little at her question, he used one foot to push his swing into motion, looking away to scan the playground. "I've been busy." He said eventually.

A frown crinkled her brow at his evasive answer and she found herself studying his profile closely. He was hiding something. Considering her own collection of secrets she should have let it go, but Irma couldn't get past the curiosity that ate at her. What had he been doing poking around in the remains of that demolished building? Her frown deepened as she thought about the dust that had covered him, the weird goggles he'd had pushed back on his forehead, and the backpack whose mysterious contents had called to her.

As if summoned by her remembrance of them, a surge of Kraang voices fuzzed at her brain. She absently rubbed one hand along her upper arm when goosebumps tickled the surface of her skin while at the same time her eyes were pulled to the backpack in question. Brodie had slung it carelessly to one side of the swing set before claiming a seat and suddenly she couldn't look away from it.

"What's in your bag?" She asked abruptly, a half formed theory nagging at her.

Brodie's gaze followed her pointing finger then snapped back to her and she watched curiously as his expression subtly shifted and shuttered. His blue eyes became guarded. "Why?"

She tapped her forefinger against her temple as if that would make him understand, struggling to form thoughts around the alien mutterings clouding her brain. "I think there's something in there that's messing with my head." She blurted finally, knowing she sounded certifiably insane.

Instead of laughing at her, or straight up putting as much distance as he could between himself and the crazy girl, Brodie simply tipped his head to the side and studied her in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar. After a second he reached out to drag his backpack closer then unzipped it, casting one quick look around to make sure no one was nearby before reaching in to pull out a white sphere roughly the size of a basketball.

Irma gritted her teeth as the whispers grew even louder, her eyes watered a little as she squinted at the ball. "What _is_ that?"

"I have no idea," Brodie's voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long tunnel. "I found it that night I met you and I've been studying it ever since."

The white ball came closer and she realised he was holding it out for her to take. Unbidden her hands came up to clasp it and the moment her skin met the smooth surface a white hot bolt of pink seared through her head. The world fell away and she was caught in a maelstrom of voices that pushed and pulled at her from every direction. She tried to block her ears but she had no hands, tried to scream but she had no throat. There was only the cold, merciless pummelling of greed and hunger and jealousy and _hate_ …

With a final rush of sound the world snapped back into existence and she found herself staring down at her empty hands while shudders wracked her body. "Oh my god," she croaked, her voice hoarse as though she'd been able to give voice to the screams. Her hands came up to cover her face, palms dampening from the tears on her cheeks. "Oh my _god…_ "

Warm hands gripped her shoulders and she peeped through her fingers to find Brodie crouched in front of her, face scrunched with worry. "Are you alright? What _was_ that?"

"The Kraang," she took a hitching breath then stuttered, "th-they want New York back."

* * *

 _Are you guys still out there enjoying the story? I didn't get many reviews on the last few chapters so I hope you haven't lost interest :(_


	17. Chapter 17

_Hi guys *sheepish wave*. It's been a whole year without an update on this story? Eeep! Sorry!_

 _Thanks to the people who left comments over the last 12 months. I appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you thought of the story even though I hadn't updated recently._

 _This chapter was a chance for me to reacquaint myself with Irma and ease back into the story. I feel a bit rusty to be honest but I'm also excited about where this is all headed._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 _...the ones known as…..production has decreased by a percentage of…_

Irma frowned, movements sluggish as she wormed her way further under her blanket to escape the hissing, vicious voices that feathered over the borders of her consciousness. They wormed their way into her brain...out from her brain...they wormed. Persistently enough that she was being drawn from sleep and into a reality she was reluctant to join.

 _...report…..turtles...failure to comply….._

With one fumbling hand she groped for the cords of her earphones which had fallen out during the night, fiddling with the small buds until she was finally able to shove one into her ear. Nothing. She reluctantly cracked an eyelid open and squinted at the fuzzy outline of her iPod, not needing her glasses to see that the screen was black.

 _...integrity of the…_

Fudge. She toyed with the idea of staying under her covers and willing herself back to sleep. A handful of moments was enough to tell her it wasn't going to happen.

 _...compromised..._

With a long, low groan Irma shoved the covers back and slowly swung upright. Her toes brushed the floor and she gazed absently down at their fuzzy outlines through a tangle of hair. The Kraang voices droned on. Reaching for her glasses she slipped them on then fumbled around on her nightstand to find the cord which would revive her dead iPod.

Lead dragged at her limbs as she dressed, pulling on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt she found. The bathroom light made her skin seem sallow and her gaze was drawn to the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the fading bruise on her cheekbone as she brushed her teeth and hair.

She looked awful. She _felt_ awful.

Tears welled in the eyes of the girl in the mirror so she turned away, heavy feet taking her down the hallway towards the kitchen from which the smell of something cooking wafted. Even though her nose twitched her stomach remained unmoved. It was too busy dealing with the ball of lead that had parked itself there recently…

"Irma, honey, you're up."

Irma blinked at her mom, taking in the wide smile that couldn't quite hide the tightness around her eyes or the forced lightness of her tone. Her dad wore his worry openly, studying her from his seat at the table with a sombre brown gaze. He reached over to pull out the chair next to him, patting the seat as he tilted his head at her.

"Come sit down sweetie, you're just in time for a late breakfast."

As she shuffled to comply Irma's eyes swung to the clock that hung above the doorway. More like a late lunch, her parents must have been waiting a while for her to surface 'just in time'. The lead in her stomach grew as she grimaced and sat down next to her dad, guilt rising to swirl with the exhaustion, fear, anger, dread…

"Here you go baby."

Irma reached out automatically to take the white plate from her mother and as her hands neared the curved edges it flickered before her eyes, stuttering pink lashed as the alien hissing rose in her ears. For a split second the flat circle was instead a sphere, patches of alien light rippling over its smooth surface. A gasp lodged in her throat, hands jerking back as her whole body stiffened.

"I'm not...n-n-not hungry." She forced the words past stiff lips with a heavy tongue. Her mom's smile dropped away and, even though it had been fake to begin with, Irma felt awful about it.

"You've got to eat something." There was a definite pleading note in the older woman's voice as she placed the plate in front of Irma, "it's been days since you've done more than pick at your food."

Irma stared down at the breakfast her mom had prepared just for her, golden brown potato cakes that were usually her favourite. The sight of them sent a small wave of nausea through her belly.

"Irma." A warm hand landed on her arm and once again the warmth of her dad's gaze caught hers. "Your mum and I," he paused, eyes flicking to his wife as he searched for the right words. "We want you to talk to us. We know something isn't right, it's been months since the invasion…"

As the word left his mouth Irma flinched, dropping her gaze away and twitching her arm from her father's grip. He held on, gently curving his fingers around her forearm and leaning closer. "We thought the right thing to do was give you space, let you come to us in your own time. Maybe we were wrong," the sadness and frustration in his voice dragged her attention back to his face. "For a while you seemed to be...coping," he shook his head, "but ever since that boy brought you home…"

Brodie. Memories she'd been trying desperately to repress clashed in her head. The white sphere burning through her hands and into her brain with messages of hate and greed. The pink, lumpy faces of the Kraang looming over her with their rows of sharp teeth and hot yellow eyes. The sickening pink light that cast shadows in the walls of her bedroom while she was trying to sleep…

Panicked denial sent her heart thudding into her ears, mixing with the whispers as she desperately sought for an escape from the swirl of images. Irma drew a long, slow breath through her nose, taking a moment to wrestle her thoughts and emotions back under control before forcing herself to meet her father's gaze.

"It was just a migraine dad," Irma willed her lips to curve themselves into what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I think I caught a bug or something but I'm feeling better today, honest." Her voice only trembled a little but still the frown stayed lodged on her dad's brow so she stretched her smile wider, reached for a potato cake and took a huge bite.

Next Irma turned to her mother and met her concerned gaze, chewing the tasteless lump and swallowing it before continuing. "You guys have been awesome, really, and I promise to tell you if there's anything bothering me…"

 _"...the Kraang, th-they want New York back..."_

Irma forced one more word past the lump in her throat, "promise."

Her parents shared a long look before reluctant acceptance settled over their features. "Ok honey, if you say so." Her dad squeezed her arm once then let go, leaning back onto his chair and watching her as she picked up a second potato cake and bit gamely into it. Her mum rounded the table to place a cup of milky tea next to the plate of potato cakes, dropping a lingering kiss onto the top of her daughter's head as she did so.

Tears once again pricked at her eyes but she blinked them back determinedly. How could she tell her parents the truth? Her heart hurt just at the thought of them finding out about any of it. They didn't deserve the crushing weight of knowing what had happened to her, what was still happening, and what was lurking in the future.

 _Who are you really protecting, them or yourself?_

She ignored the unwanted thought, washing down the last bite of her breakfast with a large mouthful of sweet tea. But the Kraang whispers mocked her, sending a creeping wave of bleak despair to settle over her once more. Her movements were robotic as she pushed back from the table to take her dirty plates to the kitchen sink, casting another smile her mother's way when their eyes met and bracing herself against the sadness she saw reflected there.

 _Them? Or yourself…._

* * *

 _Poor Irma, she's in a dark place. If only she had someone to talk to..._


	18. Chapter 18

_A big thank you Chandrakantya and Major for your reviews on the last chapter, and welcome to my new followers too :)_

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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Monday arrived with a flourish of sunshine. Irma paused by her bedroom window to stare out at the shiny new day through a single pane of glass that felt more like a forcefield.

School. Blech.

The thought was so unlike her she blinked in surprise, eyebrows lowering as the corners of her mouth turned down. For a moment she felt the loss of enthusiasm as a sharp pang in her chest - how had she gone from loving school to feeling so... _meh_ about it? A series of images flashing through her mind's eye was her answer. Green eyes flashing with shock and anger. A snarling face followed by a hard fist and an explosion of pain. A smooth white sphere heralding the return of the Kraang...

Instinctively Irma tamped down hard on the memories, suppressing a small shudder as she turned from the blindingly blue sky and made her way out of the room. Her headphones were a comforting weight around her neck and just knowing that the iPod tucked into the back pocket of her jeans had a full charge was enough to bolster her courage to face the day, if not her enthusiasm. At least the Kraang voices were a little more subdued, maybe the glorious Autumn day outside had dampened their hate just a tad. Irmalet out a mirthless snort. Yeah right.

As she came to the end of the hallway Irma paused and took a moment to clear her sombre expression, rolling her shoulders back and plastering a smile onto her face before stepping out into the living room in case either of her parents were there, waiting for her to emerge.

It had taken a solid four days for her to recover from her 'migraine'. Three days of sleeping and suffocating beneath a fog of despair, followed by one more of forcing herself to crawl out from under the barrage of emotions. She had ruthlessly crammed the feelings down, succeeding just enough to convince her parents she was fine. That they didn't have to worry about her.

"Good morning sweetheart." As expected her mom was hovering by the entrance to the kitchen, a tentative smile stretching her lips as she eyed Irma up and down from across the room. Despite her attempt to sound casual she positively radiated tension.

Ok, so maybe her parents weren't as convinced as she'd like them to be…

"Morning mum," Irma forced a bright note into her voice as she crossed the room to hug the older woman, burying her face in her neck and squeezing her eyes shut to better inhale the scent of her shampoo and fabric softener. Strong arms rose to tighten around her, backpack and all, and for the millionth time tears stung at Irma's eyes. She ground her teeth and blinked them back.

"Are you sure you're ready to go to school today?" Her mum stepped back to hold her at arm's length, concern lacing her voice and expression. "You know I don't mind staying home another day if you need me to."

"Of course I'm ready!" Irma nodded and hoped like crazy that her glasses hid the tell tale sheen of tears. "Can't wait."

"Well…" Her mum pursed her lips doubtfully before casting a glance at her watch, "you better leave now then. Just hold on a second while I make you something to eat on the way."

Irma let out a tense breath as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen, glancing at her own watch and making a face. She'd overslept a little this morning but if she left right now however she should make it to school with a bit of time to spare…

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone delivered a series of heavy thumps on the front door. "I'll get it!" Irma called out automatically, a few strides taking her across their small apartment to the narrow front foyer. Without checking the peep hole she gripped the handle and yanked the door open. Then her gaze was immediately forced to travel upward, her neck tilting back until she found a pair of eyes as blue as the cheery sky glimpsed through her window.

"Brodie!" His name exploded from her mouth on a surprised exhale. "I…" Her mouth opened and closed a few times, eyebrows lifting and falling as she tried to find words. "How...um, why…ah, what are you doing here?" She finally settled on a question, voice rising to a squeak at the end. Her cheeks heated as she remembered the last time she'd seen him, then began to flame when the corner of his mouth quirked and he tilted his head at her with all too familiar amusement. She pressed her lips together to hold in a pained groan. Was she eternally cursed to fluster and fumble her way through every encounter with this guy?

Clearing her throat Irma straightened her spine, tucked the edge of her bangs behind one ear then crossed her arms. "May I ask what brings you here, Brodie?" She refused to wince at the ridiculously formal tone she was suddenly using.

Brodie's smile dropped, he cleared his throat and adopted an overly serious expression. "I confess, Miss Irma, I've come to return something that belongs to you." He replied in a perfect match to her tone.

Irma felt her eyes widen as they flew to his backpack, dread sending a wave of tingles over her scalp. "What?" Her hands came up protectively as he held something out to her.

"Oh." The panic drained away when she saw it wasn't a cold, white sphere being pushed into her hands, but a long, thin and tightly wrapped cylinder. The breath whooshed out of her in a relieved rush, her heart slowing its hammering pace beneath her ribs.

"It's an umbrella." She pointed out needlessly, holding the offered item and staring at it blankly for a few moments. All at once her brain kicked back into gear and she shook her head slightly, eyes popping open in recognition. A sudden and ridiculously intense bubble burst inside her chest, catching her by surprise. "It's _my_ umbrella!" She let out a laugh, unable to stop the stupid smile that spread across her face until her cheeks almost creaked with the weight of it. "Actually it's my dad's umbrella and he's been missing it like crazy. He is going to be so happy when he sees it."

She tilted her face back to find Brodie was beaming back down at her once more. He propped one shoulder on the doorframe then shrugged the other casually, "I figured you were probably missing it," his eyes danced as he rubbed his chest pointedly, "it is your weapon of choice for late night expeditions after all."

Irma rolled her eyes but still couldn't help grinning, first at him then the umbrella. "How did you get this?" She asked as she hung the brolly back in its place. She studied it thoughtfully then moved a few coats over to hide it, hopefully her dad would just think he had simply missed it the last time he'd searched the coat rack. "I thought I dropped it in that lot..."

"Irma? Who's at the door?"

Irma's mouth snapped shut, her head whipping around to see her mom approaching with an apple in one hand and a small package in the other. The older woman paused for just a moment when she saw who stood in the doorway, then a delighted smile broke out across her face. Her gaze stayed locked on Brodie as she handed over the food to her daughter.

"Thanks mom," Irma took her breakfast then kissed her mother on the cheek. "Mom, this is Brodie, we go to school together." As she spoke Irma turned to Brodie just in time to catch the odd look that flitted across his face. His usual smile had shrunk until it barely pulled at the corners of his mouth, he'd straightened from his casual slouch and now had his hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked nervously on his heels. Irma found herself frowning at him with bemusement.

"Hi Brodie, I'm Ana." Irma's mum held out a hand, "I never got a chance to say thank you for bringing Irma home last week."

"It was no problem, Mrs Langenstein." Brodie mumbled, one shoulder lifting in a half shrug. He hesitated before taking one hand out of his pocket and taking the offered handshake. "I was happy to help."

"Well, it was very nice of you," Irma's mum insisted gently, "Asher and I really appreciated your kindness."

Brodie gave her mum a small but genuine smile as he tugged his hand free and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the messy strands back from his forehead and sending them out in even crazier directions. Irma followed the movement, her brows drawing together in a small frown. He looked completely out of character in that moment, slightly awkward and almost...shy?

"So," Irma's mom spoke again, breaking the slightly awkward silence that was slowly building. "I guess you two better get going."

Irma started, then dropped her gaze to hide her expression as she fought back a slight cringe. The dread that had somehow dissipated when she'd found Brodie on her doorstep began to regather in the pit of her stomach. She'd almost forgotten.

School, blech.

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 _So, what did you think? Please leave me a review and let me know :)_


	19. Chapter 19

_Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter Major and Chandra!_

* * *

As they paused on the front stoop of her building Irma was struck once more by the brilliance of the day. On the other side of her bedroom window not only was the sun shining, but the air was also crisp and fresh with the beginnings of autumn.

She tilted her head back and let the sun's warm rays soak into her skin, squinting her eyes against the glare to take in the overhead leaves of the young maple trees that dotted the sidewalk. They were just starting to turn gold. New York was so pretty at the moment. And the Kraang wanted it, they craved her city with the single minded desperation of a parasite.

Irma brought a hand up to rub at her temple where a new headache was brewing. The voices took a step forward and she wished she could use the headphones slung about her neck to block them out.

"Hey," Brodie nudged her with his elbow. Irma dropped her hand and turned her head to find him looking down at her with a small frown.

"Hey," she dredged up a smile and forced her feet to start walking. He fell in beside her easily, still snatching glances at her as they made their way along the cracked pavement. She cast about for something to say. "So, you found my umbrella?"

The corner of Brodie's mouth twitched and he focussed his gaze forward. "I went back the next night," he admitted. "I found it and figured you'd probably like it back but I didn't get a chance until today."

"What were you even doing there in the first place?" Irma fixed her gaze on the side of his face and watched the muscle in his jaw jump as he tilted his chin down towards her.

"What were _you_ doing there?"

He parroted her question back and she huffed, dropping her eyes. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Me neither."

She shot a look at him from beneath her lashes and shook her head when she saw his smirk. An answering smile faltered before it began, her steps stuttering to a stop as the shift in the flow of foot traffic told her where they were.

The entrance to the subway loomed in front of them, a jagged tongue of steps leading down into a dark throat. It was waiting to swallow her up and ferry her to the last place she wanted to be right now. School. Her mind took a sharp detour to a stainless steel cell and she gave a slight shudder, the last place on Earth she amended quickly then pushed the entire chain of thoughts away.

She blinked when a hand curled around her elbow and tugged her to one side. Her attention refocused on the people who now flowed past unimpeded, more than one of them was casting a frown her way.

"Sorry," she muttered, sneaking another sideways glance at Brodie then squeezing her eyes shut against the concerned expression that had crept back over his face. She was doing it again. Worrying people.

 _Stop being weird Langenstein!_

She needed to pull herself together. Get herself moving. But what was the point? Any of it? The Kraang were coming back. They were plotting and building their armies and they were _coming back_. School didn't matter, nothing mattered because it would all be gone again soon.

Irma could feel the steel bands tightening around her chest as beads of sweat popped out on her brow. The vicious swirl of voices sensed her weakness and surged forward another notch. Her hands clenched by her sides then lifted to grip the earpieces of her headphones like a lifeline.

Brodie's hand flexed around her bicep and she screwed her eyes even more tightly closed as she felt herself being turned gently. She didn't want to see his expression, too scared of what she would find there.

Large, warm hands covered hers, lifted the headphones and settled them over her ears. Almost immediately the last song she'd been listening to flooded in, driving back the alien whispers and loosening the giant knot in her chest.

Her eyes flew open to find Brodie watching her - not with pity, concern or humour - but with that familiar head tilt, eyes thoughtful. His mouth moved, voice muffled by the music pulsing in her ears. She found herself watching his lips form the words -

"I have something to show you."

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 _Let's get this story moving!_


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